


Legacy of the Grey

by Eriador117



Series: Lyrium's Song [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age 2
Genre: Aedan Cousland/Zevran background couple, Angst, Canon Divergence, Family Secrets, Grey Wardens, M/M, Mages, Magic, Male Hawke/Fenris - Freeform, Red Lyrium, Romance, Spoilers for Dragon Age, Templars, secrets and lies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriador117/pseuds/Eriador117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now married and content, Fenris and Hawke join their friends on the Deep Road Expedition. But Hawke should have realised by now that things in his life rarely go to plan. When disaster strikes he and Fenris are put on a path neither of them would have chosen. And when they find out the truth about the Grey Wardens, things can only get worse. But whatever comes, they'll fight it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for DA2 and Legacy and probably some of the other books/comics and games as well. Will have some in-game dialogue and events too.

_"There's power in stories. That's all history is: the best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine." - Varric Tethras_

* * *  
Varric had hired the whole of the Hanged Man for the wedding reception, so although the nobles could attend the Chantry ceremony, they couldn't follow here. Hawke was grateful. He was fed up of being the subject of the nobles' gossip and he knew Fenris felt the same. Did they have nothing better to do than gossip about the city's citizens?

Hawke had never seen the Hanged Man look so unlike itself before. Freshly cut rushes and crushed herbs covered the floor, disguising the bloodstains and masking the smell of spilled ale and stale vomit with the scent of lavender and rosemary. Filmy drapes hung on the wall, hiding the worst of the graffiti and along the top of the walls were garlands of red and white roses. 

The tavern's tables had all been draped in white linens, with bowls of red and white roses in the middle of each table. And at each place setting there were crystal cut goblets and ceramic plates with gold trim, not the tavern's usual wooden ones. Varric had even found a minstrel, who was sitting in one corner and playing a soft melody on her lute.

On a side table next to the bar stood the wedding cake Leandra had made. Three tiers, each in the shape of a heart, each tier smaller than the last all of it iced in white and decorated with pale green ribbons and sugar flowers.

"Varric, this must have cost you a fortune! This is far too generous."

Varric waved Hawke's concerns away. "Nonsense, what's the point of having money if you can't spend it on your friends? I want do to this for you both. Think of it as my wedding gift if that makes it easier."

"I don't know what to say. Thank you, Varric." Hawke leaned down and hugged his friend.

"Now, now, none of that," said Varric, grinning. "Broody'll get jealous. Where is Broody anyway?"

Hawke glanced around the crowded common room and didn't see his new husband anywhere. "Maybe he's gone upstairs or outside for a bit. He's not a great fan of crowds."

"I know," said Varric, delving into one of the many pockets which lined his coat and removed an old, iron key. He bowed and handed it to Hawke with a flourish. "Which is why I've arranged for you and Fenris to have the use of our summer cabin at the Wounded Coast for the next few days for your honeymoon. You don't want to spend your wedding night at Gamlen's, do you?"

Hawke shuddered at the thought. "I suppose not."

"And we'll be going to the Deep Roads soon, you'll hardly get much privacy there. Although I'm sure the newly-weds might find some disused tunnel or two. The rest of us will just ignore it if the two of you go wandering off alone." Varric waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

Hawke chuckled. "Ignore it? This from the man who is writing everything about our lives in his books. We'll be teased beyond endurance."

"Not beyond endurance," said Varric. "You'd endure anything for him, wouldn't you?"

Hawke nodded, knowing the truth of Varric's words.

"I've sent Norah and some of other serving girls out this past week so the place is all clean and tidy for you both. There's food too and enough firewood to see you through a siege. Take all the time you need, Hawke. The expedition isn't going anywhere without you."

"And my fifty sovereigns." Hawke winked at him. "But now I think I'd better find my husband before Mother sends a search party after him."

Hawke found Fenris standing on the landing just outside Varric's suite, his arms folded and one foot resting on the wall behind him. The door was open, but it looked like Fenris hadn't wanted to venture inside without express invitation. Hawke smiled to himself at his husband's politeness. Most people wouldn't even have worried about it.

Fenris glanced up and smiled when he saw Hawke approach, making Hawke's stomach do a strange jolt when he saw it. It was rare to see Fenris smile so openly, and most of the time it was only Hawke who got to see it. 

"Ah, my husband has found me," said Fenris, pushing himself away from the wall. "I just needed a bit of a breather. It's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it?"

"It is," said Hawke.

"Don't misunderstand me. I have no regrets. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, Hawke and I wouldn't change any of it for the world. It's just the crowd. I wasn't expecting so many people."

"Me neither. I think Varric must know half the city."

"Only half?" Fenris asked, moving closer and wrapping his arms around Hawke's waist. Fenris stood up on tiptoes and kissed Hawke softly on the mouth. A brief flutter of lips upon lips, stopping way too soon in Hawke's opinion. Their faces pulled apart after their kiss, but they still embraced each other, their eyes locked on each other's, smiles that wouldn't go away.

"Hawke, may I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"Tonight will be our wedding night. Do you have – um – certain expectations?" Fenris hung his head, his fringe obscuring those beautiful green eyes.

"What's worrying you, Fenris?" It was probably best to get these fears out in the open now rather than later and inadvertently make Fenris uncomfortable. Hawke didn't want to do anything to hurt him. Surely Fenris knew that by now?

"I – I am not sure that I would be comfortable with any sort of penetration. The memories. My past..."

"Fenris, we don't have to do that. We _never_ have to do that, not if you don't want to. We only have ourselves to please. As for the wedding night, I had assumed we would do the same as he had been doing. Kissing and touching. Stroking and licking." Hawke put action to his words and licked one of the lyrium lines on Fenris' neck. He could feel the change in Fenris immediately – the elf all but melted against him and his markings glowed, casting the hallway with blue shadows.

Fenris shifted in Hawke's arms, his breath a harsh rasp in Hawke's ear. Hawke nibbled on his earlobe and Fenris moaned, low in his throat, his lower body arching against Hawke. His arms tightened against Hawke's waist and Hawke could feel Fenris' erection digging into him. "Would you like that tonight, Fenris? Me, licking you all over. Your head to your feet, your chest, your back, your arms, your legs. Your cock. Me, kneeling at your feet. Sucking your dry and swallowing. Every. Single. Drop."

"Hawke! Venhedis!" Fenris moaned and bucked against him, his arms tightening around Hawke's waist, his whole body writhing in the throes of an orgasm that neither of them had expected. Hawke held Fenris through it, feeling the wet warmth soaking through both their clothes and making Hawke's arousal spike even higher.

Fenris' hand slid between them and he fumbled at the laces of Hawke's breeches, his hands still trembling from aftershocks.

"Hawke, Fenris? Are you up here?" Carver's voice called from the stairs.

"Shit!" Hawke whispered, leaning his forehead against Fenris'. He couldn't go back to the party in this state. Both of them must look a sight: Fenris' and his clothes both damp with Fenris' come; hair dishevelled, clothes half-off.

"Mother says it's time for your first dance. Oh. OH!" Carver turned around almost as soon as he saw them. Probably not the best thing to happen, seeing your brother's new husband with his hand down your breeches.

"Um, can you give us five minutes? Then we'll be back down."

"Right. Right," said Carver. "I didn't see anything. At all." He said it in such a way that Hawke thought his brother had seen much more than he ever wanted to. Neither of them relaxed until they heard Carver's footsteps on the stairs again.

Fenris' face was strawberry red, but he was still smiling. "That was beyond embarrassing."

"Yep," said Hawke. "But kind of exciting too, wasn't it? To almost get caught?"

"We _did_ get caught," Fenris said, resuming undoing Hawke's laces. "You are a strange man, Aemond Hawke, but I love you anyway."

Fenris' hands delved inside his smallclothes and grasped Hawke's naked cock in his fist. Hawke gasped, his knees almost buckling. It didn't take five minutes, he'd been excited too long and the lyrium in Fenris' markings just made everything so much more intense. "Fuck! Fenris! Fenris! Ah! Ah!" Hawke wailed as he spilled himself in copious spurts over Fenris' hand.

He stood there, shuddering in Fenris' arms and leaned down to kiss his husband.

When they pulled apart, they were still grinning madly at each other.

"I think we may give Carver nightmares," said Hawke.

Fenris' eyes widened comically. "Wait a minute. Did Carver say we have to _dance_?"

"Of course," said Hawke. "It's traditional." It felt a bit like an unfair advantage, knowing exactly which word to use to get Fenris to agree. Fenris may well have had reservations about dancing in public but Hawke had used the one word Fenris couldn't resist. He would do it because it was traditional.

"Very well," said Fenris. "But I think you ought to clean us up first. I am not going to face your mother looking like I was mauled by a bear and dragged backwards through a bush."

"Magic is good for some things, eh?" Hawke grinned.

* * *

Fenris had never danced in public before. Not like this, not in the arms of the man he loved. Sometimes Danarius or Hadriana had made him dance at their parties, but that was just another form of humiliation to let the guests see the _party favour_ as it were. Fenris scowled at the memories and then shook his head. No, he would not let those people sully what he had with Hawke. This was different.

For a start, neither of them were naked and Hawke was looking at him with something akin to awe and wonder. Not lust, not possession. Love. Fenris smiled up at his husband, feeling his jaw ache, unused to smiling so much. But he couldn't seem to stop.

The soft melody the minstrel was playing was easy to dance to. After two songs, the rest of the guests joined them on the dance floor and Fenris was glad that now the attention wouldn't all be on them. He hadn't tripped or fallen over his feet once. They were really only swaying to the music, but Fenris revelled being held in Hawke's arms like this. He felt _cherished_ and it almost brought tears to his eyes. He swallowed thickly and rested his head against Hawke's shoulder, hoping no one had noticed. It wouldn't do for the broody elf to be caught crying, would it? 

As the music reached a crescendo, Hawke twirled Fenris around the dance floor and then dipped him backwards. Fenris clung on for dear life and let out a squawk of indignation, which was quickly muffled by Hawke's kiss. The rest of the guests applauded and cat-called, whistled and cheered. Fenris felt his whole body flush at the public display.

Hawke brought him back to his feet and whispered in his ear. "Sorry, Fenris. I couldn't resist."

"You'll pay for that later," Fenris said sternly, but then he ruined it by smiling once more.

Hawke waggled his eyebrows. "Ooh, promises, promises!" He chuckled and then spun Fenris around the floor once more to another round of cheers.

Leandra came up to them and hugged both of them. "You both look so content. I'm so happy for you both. Now it's time you cut the cake."

Hawke slung a casual arm around Fenris' shoulders and winked at him. "Shall we?"

"Certainly, Husband. Lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"It's very _rustic_ isn't it?" asked Fenris as he peered about the room. The furniture was sturdy and practical, without any thought given to comfort. There were no cushions to soften the hard wood of the sofa or the chairs dotted around the large dining table. The table looked as if it had been hewn from one large block of wood. Fenris trailed his hand along the table, following the grain of the wood. Had Varric rebelled against his dwarven heritage and used wood for everything instead of stone? He smiled to himself as he caught sight of the huge fireplace. Now here was all the stone, tonnes of it. You could roast an ox in that and still have room for more.

"Hmm?" Hawke said in a distracted tone. "Oh, the cabin? I hadn't really noticed. I was too busy looking at you."

Fenris' breath hitched at the desire in Hawke's voice. "Were you now?"

"Yep." Hawke grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Shall we see if we can find the bedroom?"

"You have a one-track mind," said Fenris, smiling back at his husband. Husband! He could hardly believe he was married. It was like some strange dream.

Hawke nodded, unrepentant. "That one track that's on my mind all the time? It's called Fenris."

Oh, Hawke knew just the right things to say, didn't he? Fenris sauntered over and stood on tip-toes to kiss his new husband. Both of them moaned and parted reluctantly. "The bedroom?" Fenris reminded him. They were going to spend their wedding night in comfort, and the wooden sofa just wouldn't cut it.

"Must be through one of these doors," Hawke said as his eyes scanned the room and the doors leading out of it. He pushed one open, then turned back and grinned. "Found it."

Fenris wasted no time in joining his husband by the doorway. "Just one more thing." Hawke bent down and then scooped Fenris up in his arms.

"Hawke!" Fenris squawked. "What are you doing?" 

"It's traditional to carry your br – your husband over the threshold."

"Were you just about to call me a _bride_?" Fenris demanded, mock-scowling.

"Just a slip of the tongue." Hawke was quick to reassure him. "I know you're not a woman, Fenris."

Fenris wrapped his arms around Hawke's neck and blew into his ear, making Hawke shiver. Fenris felt the vibrations in his own body and shivered in turn. They were so close that he could smell Hawke's arousal. "Perhaps it's time we make use of that bed?" Fenris suggested.

Hawke nodded and marched over to the bed, Fenris still in his arms. He set Fenris down and almost before Fenris could take a breath, Hawke was lying on top of him and kissing him breathless. Hawke was frantic in his attentions, almost mindless. As if afraid to delay things any longer. But that wasn't what Fenris wanted tonight. He wanted to savour things between them like a fine wine, not gobble down a mouthful of the Hanged Man's mystery stew before he could taste it.

Fenris pulled his mouth away. "Hawke," he said softly, as Hawke began to thrust his hips. "Can you slow down a bit? We don't have to rush. We have all the time in the world."

Hawke gazed down at him, his eyes widening. "Oh, Maker, Fenris! I'm sorry. I guess I'm used to hurrying things so the others won't hear us."

"There's no one here but us tonight, Hawke," Fenris said, reaching up to card his fingers through Hawke's dark hair. "And I'd like us to take our time tonight. A wedding night should be special."

"It is special," Hawke said. "I'm spending it with you."

Fenris' eyes watered at that and he blinked quickly, trying to dispel the tears before they fell. He didn't want Hawke to feel bad and no matter if they were happy tears, Fenris crying wouldn't do much for their love life.

Hawke sat up, straddling Fenris' hips and grinned broadly. "I think I would like to pamper my husband tonight."

"Oh?" Fenris arched his eyebrows. "What did you have in mind?"

"I thought I might give you a massage. Have you ever had one?"

"No, I can't say that I have. But aren't we a little over-dressed for that?" Fenris may never have had a massage, but he'd seen the slave attendants at work in the public baths when they massaged Danarius and Hadriana. Fenris was just thankful that he'd never had to touch Danarius like that.

"That's something that can be remedied." Hawke leaned down to kiss him, before sliding down the bed and yanking off Fenris' breeches and smallclothes in one fell swoop. They'd already removed their footwear earlier, or things would have stalled when Hawke reached his feet. Fenris' hard cock slapped against his abdomen, trailing precome along the bottom of his tunic.

Hawke stood up and pulled his own tunic off, tossing it on the floor to join Fenris' breeches and smallclothes. Fenris sat up and removed his tunic, watching Hawke all the while as Hawke continued to undress. When both of them were fully nude, Fenris couldn't stop a small gasp of appreciation at his husband's form. The broad chest scatted with hair, the muscled arms and legs and there between, nesting in black curls, Hawke's cock stood out horizontal from his body. Fenris licked his lips, remembering how it tasted.

"See something you like?" Hawke asked, as hands on hips, he twirled for Fenris' delectation.

"Everything," Fenris breathed.

"So, how about that massage?" Hawke asked when he turned back around to face him.

Fenris nodded and turned to lie face down on the bed. He heard Hawke rummaging through his clothes. A few moments later, Hawke settled on Fenris' lower legs, making the bed dip with his weight. Fenris heard the 'pop' as something was uncorked and then he felt a drizzle of oil on his lower back. He immediately tensed up and clutched the pillows in white-knuckled hands.

"Fenris?" Hawke was quick to notice his distress, something that made Fenris love him even more.

"The oil is just for the massage, right? Nothing else?" Fenris didn't like how shaky his voice sounded. Hawke was not Danarius, he knew that. Hawke would never take anything that Fenris' didn't offer freely. But he still couldn't stop the instinctive fear.

"Yes. Just the massage, Fenris. Nothing else. I promise." Hawke leaned over him and kissed his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Hawke started with his shoulders, his large hands spreading the oil thinly over Fenris' naked skin. Fenris hadn't realised how tense he was until he felt Hawke's hands undoing the knots on his neck and shoulders. Fenris sighed into the pillows and shifted under Hawke's ministrations. Who knew that a massage would feel so good?

Hawke finished with Fenris' shoulders, then smoothed a path down Fenris' back and sides, humming to himself. Fenris' squirmed and giggled as Hawke's fingers danced along his sides.

"I'm ticklish there!" Fenris managed to gasp out between laughs.

"Good to know." Hawke pressed another kiss to his shoulder, but desisted from tickling Fenris any more.

Hawke shuffled down the bed and settled between Fenris legs before grasping Fenris' left foot in his hands. If Fenris thought his sides were ticklish, it was nothing compared to the sensation as Hawke tried to stroke the sole of his foot with the massage oil. Fenris laughed so much he was gasping for breath and tears of mirth ran down his cheeks. He wriggled his foot this way and that, but Hawke wasn't letting it go. "Hawke! Stop, I can't take any more!"

Hawke pressed a soft kiss to his foot and let it fall back to the bed. "You have a wonderful laugh, Fenris."

"That's as may be, but no more tickling. Or you'll be sleeping on that hard sofa out there."

"Spoilsport," Hawke said and Fenris could almost see his grin in his mind's eye. "All right, no more tickling."

Hawke stuck to his word and no more tickles were forthcoming. What there were, were slow strokes along his back, then down his legs and back up again. Fenris hummed contentedly to himself, feeling weightless and boneless. He felt like he was melting into the bed. Fenris would have called the massage relaxing, if it hadn't been for a certain part of him that was as far from relaxed as possible. His cock was hard, a firm pressure against his body and the mattress, slicking a trail of precome beneath him on the bed covers below.

His mind was filled with had happened between them at the Hanged Man, with both remembered and anticipated sensations. "Hawke," Fenris moaned softly and angled his head, shifting his body in such a way that he had no doubt Hawke knew he was aroused. Fenris' markings were flaring erratically, casting the room in soft blue shadows.

"Turn over," Hawke said, his voice a hoarse rasp and Fenris realised that he wasn't the only affected in that way by the massage. Hawke was aroused too, and the fact that he felt that way at having touched Fenris so tenderly made desire swirl in Fenris' lower belly and lower still.

He wasted no time in turning over, then leaned up to kiss Hawke fiercely, his hands tangling in Hawke's hair. Both of them were frantic now, nothing tender in the way they kissed. Teeth clacked together, tongues tangled as they fought to get closer to each other without sharing the same skin. Fenris had never felt anything like it before and he grunted into Hawke's mouth. Hawke wrapped his hands around Fenris' back and Fenris reached up to entwine his own arms around Hawke's shoulders. Still kissing and groaning into each other's mouths, he tugged Hawke down on the bed, so that soon Hawke's body was lying flush on top of his own. Chest to chest, cock to cock, thigh to thigh.

Fenris bucked up at all that wonderful pressure in all the right places. They rocked against each other in a steady rhythm that they'd danced before, knowing when to slow down, when to speed up to wring the most pleasure from each other. And it was pleasure, there was no fear here. Not with Hawke, not on this bed. Fenris knew Hawke would only go so far and no further. Fenris was almost mindless with bliss, his world dwindling to his husband atop him, the unsteady breaths and moans. 

Fenris whimpered in displeasure when Hawke left off kissing his mouth, but he sighed when Hawke instead took to licking and sucking at his neck and shoulder. He was so sensitive there and Hawke knew it. Fenris felt a jolt of arousal spike through his balls, making them ache even more. Gods, Hawke was going to kill him with pleasure. He wrapped his legs around Hawke's waist and arched up into Hawke, the need to come so sudden and distracting. It wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough. He couldn't get enough leverage, couldn't _thrust_ enough.

"Hawke, on your back," Fenris pleaded and was pleased to see Hawke obey at once, reversing their positions in one fell swoop.

Fenris sat up and settled himself on Hawke's legs. He reached down and grabbed both their slick cocks in his fist. Hawke wrapped his fingers around Fenris' waist. The touch was welcome, but it wasn't quite the touch Fenris wanted. He blushed as he realised his desire, for it wasn't something he'd ever desired before.

"Fenris?" Hawke queried, his eyebrow raising up.

"Your hands – I need – I want – lower," Fenris did his best to explain.

Hawke's eyes widened when he realised what Fenris meant. To move his hands lower would mean he would be touching Fenris' arse, something that Fenris had balked at so many times before. Fenris knew it must be confusing. It was confusing to him as well. He just knew he felt an ache. "Please," Fenris said softly.

Hawke nodded and moved his hands, his eyes searching Fenris for any sign of distress. He settled his hands, one on each buttock and then _squeezed_. Fenris yowled like a tomcat and writhed on top of Hawke, his hands slipping off their cocks with his uncoordinated moments. He removed his hands and settled his body on top of Hawke's moving his hips and thrusting once more. Hawke tugged at his arse, that pressure a welcome counterpoint to what he was feeling in his cock and balls. His balls ached with need and he knew it wouldn't be long now.

Hawke too was moving more erratically, both of them striving for the peak together. They kissed sloppily, saliva dripping between them as their lower bodies bucked and writhed in a frantic frenzy. Fenris felt his orgasm start in his toes and work its way up his body. "Hawke! Hawke!" he wailed as the ecstasy overcame him and he spurted between them in five sharp pulses. His whole body shuddered with the force of it and then Hawke was grunting into his ear, adding his own emission to the mess that already covered them. Hawke gripped Fenris' arse hard enough to bruise as he rode out his climax. "Fuck! Fuck!" Hawke groaned as he finished. Fenris could feel both their heartbeats pound in their chests.

Fenris sat up, a sticky line of semen joining his chest to Hawke's. Hawke glanced down and chuckled. "What a mess! I don't think I've ever shot so much in all my life."

"Me either," said Fenris. "Shall we have a bath before bed? I think I saw a tub in one of the rooms."

"Sounds good to me," said Hawke.

* * *

Hawke was smiling when he woke, remembering their love-making the night before and Fenris' joy in it. It had been wonderful to see Fenris so lost so pleasure with none of the shadows of the bad memories that sometimes still haunted him. 

Eyes still closed, Hawke reached out to the other side of the bed. His eyes shot open when he realised it was empty and cold. Fenris wasn't there. He hadn't been there for some time. Hawke's heart fell to somewhere near his feet when he saw the red ribbon which usually adorned Fenris' wrist lying on the bedside table. His own words came back to haunt him. _Take the ribbon off if you feel that we can't be more than friends._ Had they pushed Fenris too far last night? Maybe he wasn't ready and had only done it to please Hawke.

Hawke was up in an instant, scrambling into his clothes from last night and rushed through the cabin. Fenris wasn't there. He searched each room again, hoping for a different outcome. But the outcome was the same. Fenris was nowhere in the cabin. Hawke tugged on his boots and ran to the beach outside.

His heartbeat settled to normal when he saw Fenris' figure standing by the shoreline ahead.

"Fenris!" he called in a panic and ran down to his husband. Once Hawke got closer to see what was going on, he stopped in his tracks. Fenris had a pole and line and was fishing?

"You hate fish," Hawke said, wondering if he was dreaming.

"I know, but you don't. I was going to catch some fish for your breakfast and make you breakfast in bed. But now you've spoiled the surprise." Fenris pouted, one hand on his hip.

Hawke was quick to kiss Fenris' pout away. He grinned down at his new husband. "You were going to cook me fish, even though you don't like it yourself?"

Fenris nodded, blushing a delightful shade of pink. 

"Why did you leave the ribbon behind?"

"I didn't want to get fish guts all over it when I did the fish."

Hawke took the fishing rod out of Fenris' hands and threw it on the sand. "You were really going to gut and cook fish for me? It must be true love!"

"Isn't that what love is?" Fenris asked. "Doing something for the person you love, something you know they'll like?"

"Indeed," said Hawke. "So now I'm going to do something for you."

"Oh?" Fenris' eyes glinted. "And what that might be?"

"Not making you gut and cook fish!"

They kept laughing all the way back to the cabin, holding hands the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

_"The man that tells the tale is the one who decides History. He tells it wrong, and you have nothing more than a pretty story. He tells it right, and you have a legacy. You want a story told right, you ask someone who helped make it happen. And if that someone is me, you know I'm gonna make it awesome."_ \- Varric Tethras

* * *

Hawke lay on his back, Fenris gently nipping at his neck and shoulder as the scent of the sea outside wafted in on a small breeze. They'd left the bedroom shutters open and sunlight made dust motes dance in the light.

"Mmm," Hawke hummed contentedly as his husband began his descent down Hawke's body, sucking and licking at every part he could reach. A gentle bite on his hipbone, a soft swipe of tongue at the juncture of Hawke's thighs. They'd barely left the bedroom in the few days they were here and yet they still couldn't seem to get enough of each other. Fenris seemed insatiable, as if he wanted to map every part of Hawke's body with his hands and mouth.

Fenris moved his hands, he skimmed along Hawke's sides then slid them further up, tweaking each of Hawke's nipples at the same time and Hawke almost arched entirely off the bed. "Fuck, Fenris! I'm so _hard_!" Hawke whined. His husband had been teasing him all morning, ever since they fed each other breakfast and still Fenris seemed intent on this slow tease, rather then heading towards Hawke's cock.

"So I see, Husband," said Fenris, smirking down at him. "Is your poor cock feeling neglected?" Fenris lightly touched the tip of Hawke's cock, scooping up a bit of precome and licking it off his fingers, his eyes smouldering. Hawke couldn't take any more. He shot up from the bed and mashed his mouth to Fenris' lips. They both moaned and fell back to the bed, a naked tangle of limbs and hair as they kissed each other as if the other was air itself. They were both wild, out of control, thrusting against each other until they both came within seconds of each other, splashing their bellies and chest with each other's seed. The whole room flared blue at the moment of Fenris' orgasm, his lyrium markings a good indicator of whether or not he was enjoying himself.

Hawke's entire body trembled with aftershocks and he grabbed hold of Fenris as tightly as a man drowning.

"Hawke? Are you all right?" Fenris asked, smoothing Hawke's sweaty hair away from his brow.

"More than all right. Couldn't you tell? I think you might have to scrape me down from the ceiling, though."

Fenris kissed him softly. "Me too." Fenris sat up, grimacing a bit as their bodies unglued.

Hawke chuckled and cast a simple cleaning spell over both of them and then glanced at his new husband in horror. He'd used magic on Fenris without his permission. Fenris hissed, his markings flaring this time from pain, not pleasure.

"Oh, Fenris, I'm sorry! I didn't think. I normally used a cleaning spell when I was by myself."

"It's all right, Hawke. The pain was brief, but I would appreciate it if you could warn me first, next time."

"I will. I'm sorry."

"I suppose it's time we were heading back to Kirkwall, isn't it? We can't stay here forever."

"No, I don't suppose we can. We can't disappoint Varric after all. He'll want to know all the details of our honeymoon, won't he?" Hawke waggled his eyebrows.

Fenris grabbed a pillow and threw it at Hawke's head. "Don't you dare mention a word of what we do in private to that dwarf!"

Hawke chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I won't."

"Good," said Fenris, leaning down to kiss him. "But maybe we could stay for just a bit longer, hmm?"

Hawke took hold of Fenris' waist and tumbled him back to the bed. "Maybe we could."

* * *

"Hawke! Fenris! Good to see you both," Varric greeted them in the common room of the Hanged Man. Scrolls of parchment, bottles of ink and quills were scattered on the table around him along with a jug of ale and a tankard. "How was the honeymoon?"

Hawke and Fenris both blushed and said,"Fine," at the same time.

"Fine? That's all you're giving me?"

"Yes," Fenris said firmly and Hawke knew there would be no budging from that position. Fenris had made up his mind, he'd even folded his arms across his chest as if to settle the point.

"I've still got some feelers out, trying to get some buyers for that wine. Hopefully we'll know something in a few days. Bartrand's been going mental trying to raise the funds on his own. He's at his wit's end. I can't wait to see his face when we rock up with the money! Oh, Isabela's been looking for you both. She needs a hand with something. I told her it would have to wait until you got back. There was no way I was going to interrupt your honeymoon! She's in her room with Merrill now, if you want to go see her."

"We wouldn't be interrupting anything?" asked Fenris.

"They're not the newly weds just back from honeymoon," said Varric, grinning madly. "Just knock and you should be fine."

"Thanks, Varric," said Hawke. "And thanks again for the loan of your cabin. We had a lovely time. Just what we needed."

"Yes, thank you," said Fenris. "We really appreciated the gesture."

"Oh?" Varric asked hopefully.

"But you're still not getting any details on our love life."

"You wound me, Broody. I'll be disappointing a lot of readers over this, you know. So I'll just have to make something up, won't I?" Varric grinned from ear to ear, twirling a quill in his fingers.

"Don't you dare!" Fenris warned, his markings flaring up and lighting the Hanged Man in their blue glow. The other customers gaped, open-mouthed, some of them staring into their tankards, as if they thought they'd imagined it due to drink. "Our private life is private."

"Only teasing, Fenris," said Varric. "No harm meant."

Fenris nodded. "We'll go and see Isabela, then."

Hawke and Fenris made their way upstairs, Fenris in front, and Hawke couldn't help ogling Fenris' arse in those tight leggings. He swallowed and willed his body to behave. He knew Isabela would notice straight away and would tease them about it. And after Varric's teasing downstairs, he knew Fenris was not in the mood for it.

They didn't need to knock; the door to Isabela's suite was open and she and Merrill were sitting on either side of a table, cards splayed out on the table in front of them. The bed behind them was made with military precision, covers tucked in, all wrinkles smoothed out and pillows fluffed up against the headboard. Hawke didn't know why he thought Isabela would have been messy.

"Why do you always win at cards?" asked Merrill, sighing.

"Because I cheat, Kitten!" Isabela laughed and handed over a silver locket. "This is from your clan, isn't it? Take it back. Never bet something you aren't prepared to lose."

"But you won it fair and square," protested Merrill.

"Did you miss the part where she said she cheated?" said Hawke.

Isabela turned, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Hawke! Fenris! You're back! How was the honeymoon?"

"Fine," he and Fenris said again.

"That's not much to go on," said Isabela. "You're leaving an awful lot to the imagination."

"And that's where it will stay," said Fenris sternly.

"Varric said you needed some help with something?"

"Ah. Yes. I'm looking for something. Some sort of relic. I'd hired some blokes downstairs to try and find it for me. One of them, Lucky, I think his name was, he said he knew everything that was going on in Kirkwall. He lied. I don't think he even knows what goes on his pants! Anyway, to cut a long story short, I need to find this relic or Castillon is going to kill me."

"Who's Castillon?"

"He's a captain with the Felicissima Armada out of Antiva and he gets really angry if you don't get him what he wants. And right now he wants the relic."

"And how did you get mixed up in all this?" asked Fenris.

"I used to do some work for Castillon. Some smuggling, escorting criminal acquaintances across various borders, that sort of thing. Then one day he asks if I can escort one of his ships. I got a bad feeling when we were half-way across the Waking Sea. Normally, Castillon told me his cargo, where were going, that sort of thing. But we were travelling blind that time. I boarded the second ship and got to the cargo hold." Isabela shook her head, as if freeing her from bad memories. "He wasn't smuggling gold or silk. It wasn't goods at all. It was people. Slaves. Elves. Humans. Children even. It was sickening. He'd taken their money to escape the blight and instead he imprisoned them and was going to sell them in Tevinter."

"What did you do?" asked Fenris.

"I untied them and turned the ships back to Ferelden. Needless to say Castillon wasn't very happy with me. He lost a lot of money on that deal. So, he gets me to steal this relic for him instead. It's worth a lot. But of course it went missing once we were shipwrecked in Kirkwall. Castillon sent Hayder after me, just to make sure that I was still looking for it. Hayder had been under orders to kill me, at this point I think that's what Castillon really wants. The relic's just an excuse."

"What happened to Hayder?" asked Hawke.

"Nothing yet. We had a talk. Hayder wants out, he thinks working for Castillon is getting a bit too risky. But neither of us can get Castillon off our backs unless we find this bloody relic! He wants the relic as repayment for his lost slaves."

"What is it? A statue? An idol?"

"It's a book of some sort. Covered in gold leaf and jewels, you know the sort of thing."

"Not really," said Hawke. "But we'll keep an eye out for you."

"Thanks, Hawke. I knew I could count on you." Isabela turned to Merrill and smiled. "I'd better walk you back, Kitten. Isn't Ariana coming to visit you tonight?"

"Oh! Yes, I'd forgotten."

All four of them made their way downstairs. Varric had been joined at his table by Anders, who was staring morosely into a wooden beaker.

"Something wrong with your ale, Anders?" asked Hawke, grinning madly.

"Oh, Hawke. You're back. Hi. It's not ale, it's water. Justice doesn't let me drink any more. He doesn't approve of drunkenness. I'd better get back to the clinic anyway. Thanks for listening, Varric. I can walk part of the way with you." Anders stood up, pushing his chair back against the wall.

"Sure," said Hawke, wondering if Fenris would object. Hawke knew the two of them didn't really get along.

"A family outing!" Isabela clapped hands. "How droll!"

"It was a good thing you did, rescuing those slaves," said Fenris.

"They weren't slaves yet. Anway, don't make a big deal out of it."

"Most people would have turned a blind eye, yet you stood up for what you thought was right."

Isabela shrugged her shoulders and walked further ahead with Merrill.

They hadn't made it far past the Hanged Man before they come across a Chantry sister, deep in conversation with a ruffian. She was dressed in Chantry robes and her blonde hair glinted in the moonlight. Hawke knew that some of the Chantry Sisters roamed Lowtown by day, giving out charity to poor unfortunates, but he'd never heard of one coming her willingly by night. No one who didn't have business in Lowtown usually came at night. Case in point, there were too many thugs and criminals about and she was actively engaged with one. Hawke shook his head at her foolishness.

"Here, Miss," said the thug. "The word is you're looking for some muscle and paying well."

"Indeed. I need someone native to the dark places in Lowtown. If you claim as much, I will pay, of course."

"I am, I am. Let's just step into this alleyway so me and my fellows can have a look at the money on offer."

To their eternal surprise, the woman fell for it and followed him into a dark alley.

"Can you get this far into Lowtown and be that stupid?" Isabela asked.

"She has chosen poorly indeed," agreed Fenris.

"Hawke and friends to the rescue once more?" He asked grinning. "There's always money in saving fools."

"True enough," said Anders and they all made their way into the alleyway. The woman was doing her best to fend off the worst of her attackers, but she wasn't a mage or a warrior, she didn't seem to be carrying any weapons at all. Once Hawke and his companions entered the fray, it didn'ttake long to disable most of the thugs and soon they were scurrying away, moaning in pain at their injuries, or in shock.

The Sister was gasping for breath, her hands leaning on her thighs as she fought to get her breath back. She straightened up and glanced around at them all. "Thank you for your timely intervention. I am... out of my element."

"A foolish risk in Lowtown," said Hawke, shaking his head at the woman's stupidity. "What were you thinking, following that thug into an alleyway? Have you no common sense?"

"I had to come here to get the type of person I need. Someone of bloody skill, but also of integrity. Perhaps the kind who might leap to someone's defence. I have a charge who needs passage out of the city. If you are willing and capable, meet me at this safe house." The woman handed Hawke a small slip of parchment with an address on it. He knew it, the place was opposite his Uncle Gamlen's house. What would a Chantry Sister be needing a safe house in Lowtown for?

"You make a lot of assumptions," snapped Hawke. "It almost got you killed already. You don't even know me."

"All the more reason to end this quickly. You must need coin, everyone here does. Varnell!" She called out and a few moments later a templar in full regalia emerged from the shadows. He was shorter than the Sister by a few inches and his brown hair was flat against his head. It lay there much like a bird's nest lay in a tree but was not part of it. Hawke wondered if it was a wig.

Shit! Was it a trap to bait mages? She'd seen Hawke and Anders cast spells as they dealt with the thugs. But Varnell made no move to arrest them.

The woman nodded at the templar. "My bodyguard, Ser Varnell."

"Not so helpless after all," said Hawke.

"I was never in any danger. Not real danger at least. It was a test, one you and your friends passed admirably. I hope you will come. This matter only grows more urgent with time."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**  
*  
 _"Reach down into your heart and you'll find many reasons to fight. Survivial. Honour. Glory. But what about those who feel it's their duty to protect the innocent; there you'll find a warrior savage enough to match any dragon. And in the end, they'll keep what the others won't: their humanity." - Varric Tethras._

* * *

They were stopped at the door to Petrice's safehuose by her templar bodyguard, who raised his blade and stood ready for an attack. Fenris couldn't believe the man had forgotten them so quickly. It was barely fifteen minutes since they'd rescued Petrice in that alley. Not that she had exactly needed rescuing after all; it had been a ruse and Fenris had to wonder whether the quest she wanted help with was even real. Maybe it was a way to entrap apostates. Fenris stood closer to Hawke and glared at Ser Varnell. No one was taking Hawke to a Circle without going through him first.

"Thank you for coming," said Petrice., signing for Varnell to put away his sword. "I wasn't sure you would. This matter is delicate and I need someone of limited notoriety who will not link this to me. It is an escort, but I think you will agree that the nature of the party makes this situation... unique."

"Is this illegal?" asked Hawke. "I have enough trouble as it is."

Petrice smirked and shared a look with her bodyguard. "I should think you are about to have more. _This_ is my burden of charity."

Varnell went to a back room and returned with a large Qunari, bound and leashed.

"A Saarebas, here?" asked Fenris, his heart in his throat. He too, knew the weight of that collar, the chains binding it to his waist, the pain as it activated. Like all Qunari, the man was a giant, with thick arms and legs. His horns had been shorn off and his lips were sewn shut. Fenris was not a great fan of mages, it was true, but he hated cruelty even more. Could the Qunari even eat with his lips sewn shut? Did Qunari horns have nerves? Was the removing of his horns as painful as having a limb removed? He shuddered as the bad memories rose up once more and threatened to choke him.

Danarius had commissioned a Qunari mage collar made for Fenris' slight form, but everything else had been the same. The chains binding it to his body, the circlet around his neck that could never be removed except by his master. The pain as Danarius used both the collar and his markings to punish him. Danarius had never sewn his lips shut, but only so that he could still make use of Fenris' mouth for his own pleasure.

"Oh my," said Isabela. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Would even a templar bind a mage like this?" demanded Petrice.

"I'd never really given the plight of Qunari mages much thought," said Anders. "But it seems they are even more oppressed than we are."

"He's a survivor of infighting between their Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him _Ketojan_ , a bridge between worlds. The Viscount and others feel that peace begins with appeasement. This mage would likely be returned to his brutal kin, but he can serve a better purpose. I want him free. He must be taken from the city without alerting his people or being seen in my care."

"Have you contacted the Arishok? He'd want to be informed of this."

Petrice paled. "You – you've had dealings with their leader? If you have interacted with Qunari, then you know how they treat those who leave their heathen order. The Arishok would doom this poor creature. But knowing them is useful. If they challenged you, attacking an ally would only confirm their barbarism." Petrice nodded to herself. "You are still the best for this task."

"If you're so set on this," said Hawke. "Why can't you use Chantry resources? Why come to me at all?"

"My order will soon realise that the Qunari presence is more than a test of faith. It is an open challenge. But for now I must work on my own. Helping this mage shows how Qunari heresy cannot be ignored. His plight is vital to our cause."

"And what cause is that?" asked Varric. "Bring war with the Qunari down on our heads?"

"Sometimes only war will help. Change cannot come through inaction," retorted Petrice.

"Is freedom so helpful?" asked Hawke. "A new life with that collar seems doubtful at best."

"And yet it must be done. It is more than he has had before. My reach is limited. His struggles after this are his own." Petrice shook her head.

"You're not really considering this, are you, Hawke?" asked Varric. "Somehow staying on good terms with the giant warriors in our city seems the better course."

"What? So you'd just leave him like this?" demanded Anders. "What's been done to him is barbaric! We should set him free!"

"Fenris, what do you think?" Hawke asked.

"We all know what he thinks!" Anders sneered. "He wants to see us all captured or worse! He won't care if this mage lives or dies!"

"You know nothing about me, _mage_!" Fenris spat, squaring up to Anders, who reached for his staff.

"Maker, can we all just calm down?" Varric moved to stand between them, both hands outstretched to keep them from each other. Fenris felt like a coiled spring ready to snap. He would never like Anders, he knew that deep down, no matter what Anders did or said, but he had to put up with him for Hawke's sake.

"If you would have listened to me in the first place," Fenris said softly. "I agree with the sister on this. If he is returned to the Qunari, they will kill him. They fear that free mages are all abominations or have had dealings with demons. They won't take the risk that he has been corrupted. The Qunari will kill him rather than take that risk."

"You see?" Petrice nodded to Fenris. "Andraste never condoned slavery. That's what this mage has been to the Qunari. If we are given the opportunity to set him free, shouldn't we take it?"

"Very well," Hawke said. "But how are we going to get him out of the city? He's a bit conspicuous with that collar."

"There is a passage here that leads to the Undercity Warrens. It travels beneath the streets and leads out to the Wounded Coast. His struggles after that must be his own."

"Is there no way to remove the collar?" Isabela asked, dangling her lockpicks in her hand.

"No," Fenris replied. "The collar can only be removed by the Qunari. Some magic in the binding. The Qunari used Saarebas to collar each other and then killed the last one left, who had no one to collar him."

"Oh, Creators," breathed Merrill. "That's awful."

"Hawke," said Varric. "If you want to do this, I'm with you. I'm not a hundred per cent sure that it's something we ought to be doing, but I trust you and I'll go along if you need me."

Hawke glanced at each of them in turn, everyone nodded, including Fenris. He wouldn't subject the Qunari mage to slavery, not when he could do something to prevent it.

"You're a good man, Messere Hawke," said Petrice. "The Maker will smile upon your endeavour."

* * *

The Undercity Warrens still reeked of the sewers they had once been. It was all Fenris could do not to gag at the awful smells down there. Stick-thin children scrabbled around in the filth, looking for scraps of food or for the lucky few, some discarded coppers. It was home to the lonely and the desperate and Fenris knew that it could so easily have been any one of them if it hadn't been for Hawke. Varric and Isabela could certainly look after themselves, but what about Anders and Merrill? If it hadn't been for Hawke, Fenris guessed that they would have been taken by the templars long since, or they would have been scrabbling around for scraps down here too.

Bloodstains and human bones testified to the fact that danger lurked around every corner. Slavers came to places like this, places where starving, weak and ill people had little defence against being taken by force. Fenris knew how lucky he was to escape, but there was still a small part of his mind that worried that he'd never be safe, not as long as Danarius and Hadriana were still alive.

"If we are to free this mage, let us do it quickly," said Fenris.

"Why did that woman say he wanted to be free? He doesn't say anything, he just grunts. He's just a great big lump," said Merrill. "And why would people want to live underneath the city? Apart from the dwarves, I mean." 

"Well, speaking as a dwarf, Daisy. I don't like it down here either. You ever hear of a claustrophobic dwarf?"

Anders raised his eyebrows. "And yet you still want to venture into the Deep Roads? They're even narrower than the Warrens."

"But think off all the treasure, Blondie. Treasure can cure anything."

"This place would be nicer if they opened it up to get some sunlight. Of course, I guess Kirkwall would collapse, then." Everyone else turned to stare at Merrill. "Forget I said anything. I ramble a bit when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous, Kitten?" Isabela asked.

"I heard that sometimes they kill people and eat them down here and they're never seen again."

"Varric," Hawke admonished. "Are you scaring Merrill with your tall tales again?"

"Well, they _might_ eat people down here, you never know. It's not a place where there are frequent guard patrols, is it? Sorry, Daisy."

"That's all right, Varric. I like your stories. Why do you even put up with me, Isabela? Why do you even like me? I must seem so dull."

"What's brought this on?" Isabela hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "You know I like you very much, don't you?"

"But your life has been... so exciting. The adventures, the duels, the passionate love affairs. Compared to that, my life is a stale, dry biscuit." Merrill sighed. "I wish I had your life."

"No you don't," Isabela said passionately.

"Why not?"

"Because you have a good heart and you deserve better, Kitten."

Fenris felt like the rest of them were intruding on something private and he marched on ahead, not even seeing if anyone was following. Hawke caught up to him a few moments later and pulled him aside. "Fenris, are you all right?"

Fenris almost laughed at that. He wasn't sure he'd ever feel properly all right ever again, but he was determined to try. "I'm just trying not to dwell on the bad memories." Fenris inclined his head towards the bound Qunari mage.

Hawke's eyes widened. "Maker! When you said you were bound and leashed, you didn't just mean a simple leather collar, did you? But you're so slight, how would something like that even fit you?"

"Danarius commissioned one in my size. It fitted perfectly. He used the collar and magic to punish me when the thought I deserved it. I deserved it every day." Fenris didn't know how to say the next part. It sounded so dramatic, but it had happened and he was in fear for his life most days at the manor house. "The collar was imbued with magic, storm magic. At a simple command from Danarius, lightning arced across my skin, melding with the markings and leaving me in agony for days."

"Fenris, I'm so sorry." Hawke reached out to touch his shoulder, but Fenris shrugged him away.

"Enough. It is the past and I do not wish to speak of it further."  
* * *

Fenris struggled awake, the nightmare forgotten almost as soon as he woke. He'd had lots of dreams like this, fragments that he never remembered. He wondered if some of them were his old memories trying to resurface. Their shared bedroom was mostly in darkness, but a little light came from the banked fire and Fenris could see Hawke sitting on a stool and staring into the embers. Hawke was still dressed in his outer clothes. Had he even been to bed?

"Hawke, are you all right?" Fenris asked. He climbed out of bed and shivered at the chill of the floor. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A bit. Then I was restless, so I got dressed and went for a walk."

Fenris glanced at the narrow window near the ceiling, even though he knew it was still dark. "In the middle of the night?" Kirkwall wasn't the safest place during the day, never mind the small hours of the morning.

"I can hardly believe what happened," said Hawke. "That the Saarebas killed himself rather than live outside the Qun. What sort of philosophy is that? Conform or die? And he wasn't even possessed at all!"

"And don't forget Petrice's trap," said Fenris. "I don't think it was a coincidence that her route took us straight out to the Qunari hunting their lost mage."

"I can still smell him burning," Hawke said softly. "He didn't even scream. How could you not scream when you were in so much pain? I don't understand it."

"So I take it you'll not be joining the Qun any time soon?" Fenris walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of Hawke's head.

Hawke turned around and glanced up at his husband. "No, and if I even suggest it, knock me on the head until the madness passes."


	5. Chapter 5

_"Change is coming to the world. Many fear change and will fight it with every fibre of their being. But sometimes change is what they need the most. Sometimes, change is what sets them free."_ \- Morrigan.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Hawke had never been inside the Dwarven Merchants' Guild before, being neither a dwarf nor a merchant. He, Fenris and Anders followed Varric through the maze of corridors. Twelve foot statues of paragons had hands outstretched to the high ceilings as if they statues were holding up the roof. Maybe they were at that. Everywhere was decorated in geometric shapes, but everything was angular and blocky. There were no curves, no circles, nothing to soften the unyielding stone.

They were stopped every couple of yards by dwarves who greeted Varric like an old friend, making their journey through the corridors even longer as they chatted and gossiped.

"Do you know everyone in Kirkwall?" asked Hawke.

"Most people. And if I don't know them, I know _of_ them. Or I know someone who does."

They kept meandering through the building, until Varric stopped at a large, carved door. He knocked once and then entered without being invited. Hawke and the others stayed outside, just glancing into the room. Bartrand was sitting behind a large desk which dwarfed him and Hawke smiled to himself at the analogy. Unlike Varric, Bartrand had a full beard, styled in elaborate braids which almost reached his chest. His eyes raked over them all, as if they'd been dragged in by a cat and he didn't like what he saw. He'd probably like the money, though, Hawke was sure.

"Varric! Where the bloody hell have you been! We're supposed to leave in a few days and nothing is ready!"

"Brother, have I got some great news for you." Varric turned and beckoned the others inside Bartrand's office. "I've found us some business partners!"

"What? I didn't authorise that." Bartrand folded his arms across his chest and glared at Hawke and his companions.

"There's so much love here, it's very comforting," said Hawke, making both Anders and Fenris laugh, which just made Bartrand glare even more.

"They're investors, Bartrand." Varric rubbed his fingers and thumbs together.

Bartrand's eyes glinted at the thought of gold. "Investors, eh? That's a different matter. You want to be silent partners with a share in the profits?"

"No, we want in on the expedition," Hawke replied. "We've all fought darkspawn before and lived to tell the tale."

"Hawke and Anders here are also healers," added Varric. "A good skill to have when you're stuck underground for weeks with no outside help."

"And what about you, Elf?" Bartrand nodded up to Fenris.

"Fenris is a seasoned warrior, with some other _exceptional_ skills," said Varric. "You'd be mad not to include him in our expedition."

"I had a Chantry boy here the other day," said Bartrand. "He wants to come do, not as an investor, but he feels killing darkspawn is an obligation to their Maker."

"Sebastian," said Hawke.

"Sebastian," said Fenris.

"Sebastian," said Anders.

"That's got to be Choir Boy," added Varric. "What did you tell him?"

"He didn't want paid, so I said he could come if he wanted to. He said he wanted to tell you the good news himself, so watch out for him at the Hanged Man."

"Oh, joy," said Varric. "That'll just make my day."

Bartrand stood up and marched around the desk, looking up at the three humans. "It's all very well having experience with darkspawn, but what I'd like to see is the coin to back it up. Expeditions cost money, lots of money."

"And what about a return on our investment?" Hawke persisted. Malcolm Hawke hadn't raised a fool and you needed your wits about you when money was involved.

"Varric and I will share fifty percent, and you three will share the other fifty percent between you, since Varric and I have already put in the most money and it is _our_ expedition."

"Four of us, part of this money is my brother's," said Hawke. 

"You can split yours between twenty people for all I care. Just know that Varric and I will still get our fifty per cent and you'll get the rest to share between your group."

"That seems fair, what do you think?" Hawke asked the others.

"Sounds good to me, Hawke. Just think what I could do with some money for the clinic. I could maybe even hire someone to help. There are so many who need a healer."

"This seems fine, Hawke," replied Fenris.

Hawke smiled at Bartrand and removed his money pouch from his belt and tossed it to Bartrand.

Bartrand eagerly opened the string and his eyes widened. "There must be fifty sovereigns in here!"

"Indeed," said Hawke. "Our investment."

"Now, if only we had some decent maps." Bartrand pulled the string on the money pouch closed and placed it in his own pocket. He looked very content, like a cat who'd just had a feast of small creatures. Hawke almost imagined he wanted to lick his lips too.

"Will these do?" Anders handed over rolls of parchment.

Bartrand unrolled them and whistled through his teeth. "Three entrances to the Deep Roads? And there's even one not far outside Kirkwall. Where did you get these?"

"A wizard did it," said Anders, grinning.

 

* * *

  


"Varric, I've got a bone to pick with you." Isabela accosted their group almost as soon as they entered the Hanged Man. There were few patrons today, a couple of dock workers seated at tables along with Isabela and Merrill, who were standing by the bar.

"Let's talk in my suite," said Varric. "It's a bit crowded in here."

Anders chuckled. "You just want to avoid Sebastian!"

"That too." Varric waved at one of the barmaids. "Nora, can you send some drinks up to my suite? Put it on my tab."

"Of course, love. Won't be long."

They all traipsed up the stairs and settled themselves around Varric's large table, with Varric at the head. There were coughs and shuffles as everyone got comfortable in their chairs. Fenris sat next to Hawke and smiled at him, before blushing and glancing down at the table. Hawke wondered what Fenris was thinking to make him blush like that.

A few moments later, Nora arrived with two trays; one was laden with jugs of ale, water and wine while the other held a group of wooden tankards. She set them all down on the middle of the table so that everyone would be able to help themselves.

"Thanks, Nora," said Varric, handing her some silvers as a tip. She smiled warmly at Varric and left them to it. Everyone poured out a drink before Isabela carried on with her conservation.

"I've been talking to some of the men you've hired for your expedition, Varric. Notice I said 'men'. They said you weren't allowing any women on the expedition."

"That's right," said Varric, leaving the others to gape at him. Varric had never struck Hawke as sexist in the past; Varric seemed to be of the opinion that women could do as many things as men could and probably more besides.

"Why?" demanded Isabela, slamming her tankard back down on the table. "You know I'm a good fighter, I can look after myself! I don't need men to protect me!"

"It's not that," said Varric, placing his hands out in front of him.

"You were in Denerim, weren't you?" asked Varric. "You must have seen some darkspawn there."

"I did. And I fought them too! It's not as if I have no experience in that either."

"I fought some darkspawn too," added Merrill softly. "In the Brecilian Forest."

"And did you notice anything about those darkspawn?" Varric glanced from on to the other.

Isabela furrowed her brow, concentrating. "They were all male? Is that what you mean?"

"Aye, that's it. Darkspawn will hunt and kill any males, elf, dwarf, human, Qunari. If the women are lucky, they're just killed. The unlucky ones are dragged off by the darkspawn and turned into broodmothers."

"Oh, Maker!" said Anders. "I've seen one! A broodmother, so are you saying she might have been human or something originally?"

"That's right, Blondie. There are no female darkspawn, so they steal females from other species. One broodmother can hatch thousands of darkspawn at a time. It's why the Blights usually lasted so long, the more darkspawn were killed, the more seemed to appear to take their place. It was a never-ending stream of darkspawn. Believe me, Isabela, I don't want you or Daisy anywhere near the Deep Roads. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone."

"You could be right, Varric," said Isabela. "And I don't want you going either, Kitten. We can hold the fort up here while you lot go off adventuring. But you better bring me back a souvenir." Isabela winked at Hawke.

"Wait a minute," said Anders. "If darkspawn are created by these broodmother things, then doesn't that mean that the mages didn't do it at all! I knew it! It's nothing but Chantry propaganda to make sure everyone knows how evil mages are!" Anders began to glow blue.

"Calm down, Anders," said Hawke, leaning over and placing a hand on Anders' forearm. Anders shook his head, as if clearing it and the glow faded away. Despite being a mage himself, Hawke wasn't entirely sure how Anders and Justice worked as one entity. It would be a fascinating study, but who would want to read that? Most people weren't interested in mages who were suffering from possession, they'd just want to kill them. not study them.

"Sorry, Hawke. You know my ire isn't aimed at any of you. I'm just fed up of all the things mages get blamed for, when they weren't even responsible in the first place. It's not just."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

"Something has to be done, Hawke," Anders said firmly. "It must."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**  
*  
 _"Protect what matters with everything you have. Or you’ll have nothing. And deserve it"_ \- Aveline Vallen.

* * *

Hawke didn't think he'd ever tire of waking up beside his husband. A few weeks previously, they'd dismantled the bunk beds and placed both beds side by side. It meant there wasn't a lot of space to walk around in the room, but since they had no plans to use it as a ballroom or a street anytime soon, they made the best of it and their new double bed. Hawke smiled to himself; well they were newly weds after all, it was expected, wasn't it?

They were both lying on their side, Hawke spooned in behind Fenris, his arm across Fenris' waist. Fenris wasn't awake yet and despite Hawke's morning erection clamouring for attention, he was content to just lie there and cuddle Fenris while he waited for his husband to wake up. Privacy was rare to find in such a small house and there would be even less privacy camping in the Deep Roads, so Hawke was determined to make the most of this last morning before their expedition left.

Fenris shifted and wriggled backwards, pressing his arse tight against Hawke's cock. Hawke couldn't stop the moan, just like he couldn't stop the sun from rising and setting. "Good morning, Husband," said Fenris, turning his neck around and pressing a soft kiss to Hawke's lips. When Fenris pulled away, he was smiling shyly, a lock of his hair falling over one eye. "Or should I say, a _very_ good morning?"

"Well, the morning is young yet," said Hawke, grinning from ear to ear. "What can we think to do so early? I don't think anyone else is awake yet."

"I can think of a few things," said Fenris, removing Hawke's arm from his waist, but only so that he could turn round and wrap his arms about Hawke. They kissed for a while, slowly at first, but getting firmer. Fenris pushed Hawke down on the bed and straddled his hips, Fenris' erection resting on Hawke's stomach. Hawke couldn't resist reaching up and tracing the lyrium lines with his finger. He shuddered with want as the lyrium reacted with his mana.

Fenris shifted a bit so that their cocks lined up together and began to thrust languidly against Hawke. The pace was a bit slower than Hawke would like, but he left it up to Fenris, content just to see his husband so happy in any sort of sexual situation.

Fenris lay down flush against Hawke. Chest to chest, leg to leg and cock to cock. Hawke leaned up to kiss him and wrapped his arms around Fenris' back. Fenris moaned into their kiss, both of their hips moving faster and faster as they each sought the peak. The room glowed blue with Fenris' markings and soon Hawke was delirious with pleasure. He felt the lyrium down to his toes, adding so much more ecstasy. His balls felt full and heavy, aching with need.

He thrust up, once, twice, gripping Fenris tight, and coming in white hot heat across Fenris' body. His cock pulsed and released over and over again until Hawke was almost light-headed with it. Fenris followed him a few moments later, adding more come to their sticky bodies.

"A _very_ good morning," said Fenris, grinning, before leaning down to kiss him once more.

* * *

Hawke had never seen the Merchants' Guild so busy. The square in front was heaving with over a hundred men, elves and dwarves. Carts filled with supplies and equipment jostled for space amongst sacks of food, which tottered over some of the carts and looked in danger of falling off at any moment. Live animals, chickens, goats and nugs were held in wooden cages and made a cacophony of noise with their squawking, bleating and squealing. It was complete chaos and Hawke was loving it.

Bartrand was on a makeshift dais along with two other dwarves Hawke didn't know, although he'd seen them around the Merchants' Guild before. Hawke, Fenris, Varric, Anders and Sebastian were standing together, while Carver was standing off to one side.

"I hate the Deep Roads," Anders grumbled.

"No one is forcing you to be here," Fenris pointed out. "You don't have to come."

"Have you missed the part where I'm an apostate with templars hunting me? I need to get out of the city for a while. Unless you'd like to turn me in, Sebastian?"

Sebastian frowned. "I shall leave that up to your conscience, Anders. I am not one to judge."

Anders snorted and turned away, as if he didn't really believe that.

"Sebastian, you were invested as a brother in the chantry, right?" Anders persisted.

"Yes, Anders. I I had just taken my vows when I learned my family was killed."

"But you... gave sermons and took confessions and such, right?" Anders continued. Hawke had a feeling he wouldn't like where this conversation was going. Anders did seem to rub up a lot of people the wrong way. 

"Do you have something you wish to confess?" Sebastian arched an eyebrow.

"I just want to know, what do you say when people have questions? What's your answer when someone asks, 'so if Andraste preached freedom and ended slavery, why do you lock up mages and keep them as slaves'?" 

"No one ever asked that," replied Sebastian.

"No? I thought it was a fair question," said Anders with a sullen pout.

"You seem very bitter, Anders."

"And here I thought the Chantry was against mind reading. Do they send you on a special course in Val Royeaux so you can learn it?"

"Did something happen to you in the Circle? I heard Ferelden's Circle had some trouble during the Blight."

"Trouble?" scoffed Anders. "Trouble doesn't even begin to cover it! Are you saying a mage can only be unhappy in the Circle if demons were involved? No, it's not about Uldred and his demons and abominations. It's not about being beaten or raped by a templar— that does happen, but I've been fortunate. It' s a larger principle: the freedom every man, woman, and child born in Thedas have as a natural right."

"You were given to the Circle. I was given to the Chantry. Hawke was driven away from home by the Darkspawn. Varric was exiled from his home. None of us are free."

"So, Varric, lovely morning, isn't it?" Hawke asked, trying to stop them before this conversation went too far.

"Isn't it just? Sunny day, not a cloud in sight. Good time for an expedition."

"How are we getting all these carts out of the city?" Hawke asked. "Magic?"

Varric chuckled. "No, dwarves and magic don't really mix. We had to come up with other ways to sort out problems that mages can just solve with a click of their fingers. The Merchants' Guild has some sort of contraption, it has a dwarven name that I can't even try to pronounce. They have a system of platforms and pulleys and a vertical tunnel through the rock. Put your stuff on the platform, move some ropes and gears and boom, you have your stuff at the bottom of the tunnel. It's only a short walk from there to the city gates proper. No magic needed."

"Ingenious," said Hawke smiling. 

Bartrand clapped his hands for order and all the little conversations died down, but nothing could be done with they noisy animals and he had to shout to make himself heard. "Listen up you lot! We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering."

"Now there's an interesting image." Varric grinned at Hawke. "Never knew my brother was such a poet."

"Some competition for your stories, eh, Varric?" Hawke winked at him.

"Please, as if! I'm the author in the family, Hawke and don't you forget it."

"It'll take about a week for us to get to the depths we need. There are bound to be leftover darkspawn from the Blight. Big risks, big rewards." Bartrand marched up and down the dais, touching his beard, as if deep in thought.

"We shouldn't be taking any heedless risks," Hawke pointed out. "We need to keep our heads down there."

"This is not a foolish endeavour. This will work. Bodahn is the quartermaster. If you lose your equipment, or need extras, come and see him. The price will be taken out of your wages, so look after what you have. Brother Sebastian here will cater to any spiritual needs you might have, but don't let praying interfere with your work. Hawke and Anders are healers, so come to them if you need aid, I don't want to be bothered with it. Any questions?" Bartrand paused, but no one was foolish enough to ask questions while he was in full flight. "Right, I think that's everything... wait, who invited the old woman?"

"Excuse me, Master Dwarf, but I must speak with my sons." Leandra's voice rang out over the square.

Hawke and Carver turned around to see Leandra and Faith standing by the wall. Leandra beckoned them over. "Get on with it then," snapped Bartrand. "We don't have all day!"

"Mother, we talked about this. I'm going on the expedition," said Carver before Leandra got a chance to speak.

"You can't both go! I'm not standing by while both my sons go into danger. You've a child on the way, Carver. Are you really going to leave Faith alone and go off adventuring? You need to stay here. You need to stay here and marry Faith, that's all there is to it. Tell him, Aemond," Leandra insisted.

"It's Carver's decision, Mother. He isn't a child who needs coddling."

"Please, Carver," said Faith. "Stay here with me. I can't bear the thought of losing you down there. You could be killed by darkspawn or the caves could collapse. I'd be worried about you the whole time."

"And the worry wouldn't be good for the baby," Leandra pointed out.

"But I promised Aemond I'd go with him. What do you think, Brother?"

"If you want to stay behind, that's fine, Carver. We have plenty of men for the expedition now."

"I was hoping the expedition would help with our finances."

"You're still a partner, Carver. You helped raise those sovereigns for Bartrand. You'll still get a share, I promise."

"Then it's settled? Carver will stay?" Leandra smiled and hugged Carver, then Hawke too. "Thank you for this, you don't know how much this means to me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_"He must have known! Somehow the Champion KNEW what was down there. That's why he wanted to join your expedition."_ \- Cassandra Pentaghast.

* * *

Fenris knew in an abstract sense that the Deep Roads had darkspawn. But none of them were prepared for how many they'd encounter, considering the Blight had ended almost a year ago. Each new tunnel they discovered, they were met with more and more resistance from the darkspawn. Some of the hirelings had already high-tailed it back to Kirkwall, feeling that the treasure they _might_ find down there wasn't worth risking their necks for in fighting all the darkspawn.

It soon became something of a routine. Find a new tunnel, march down it, deal with the darkspawn, set up camp and start it all again the next day. The dwarves seemed to sense when it was night and day, despite them being so far underground. Fenris couldn't tell day from night down here, he just knew he'd be happy once they got back to the surface. He missed sunshine and he'd a headache that just kept getting worse the further down they delved. It couldn't be good for your eyes to keep squinting the dim light down there. He was feeling sick being around so much lyrium too. There were veins of it everywhere, crawling up walls and ceilings.

Anders and Hawke were the opposite, they seemed to flourish being around so much of the magical element.

"Right! We'll set camp here," Bartrand called from the head of his group of dwarves.

"Thank the Maker for that," said Varric, sinking down onto a boulder, his shoulders slumped.

"It'll be good to take a rest," Sebastian agreed.

"Anders, did you have the chits for our rations?" asked Hawke. 

Anders checked his pockets and nodded. "I'll go and get tonight's stuff. What's the betting it's going to be nug again?"

"Hey!" Varric protested. "Nothing wrong with roast nug."

"I'd just like some vegetables to go with it," muttered Anders.

"Fresh vegetables wouldn't keep down here for so long," said Hawke.

"I saw some deep mushrooms in the last passage we went through." Varric nodded back to where they'd just come from.

Fenris glanced at him. "Aren't those poisonous?"

"Only if you eat too many, Broody. A few for flavour shouldn't do us any harm."

"Me and Fenris will go and get some," said Hawke, grinning at Fenris and grabbing his hand. Fenris tried not to laugh. Hawke was so obvious in his ploy to get them alone for a while. They darted down the previous tunnel and almost as soon as they were out of sight of the others, Hawke pulled Fenris into his arms and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Fenris wrapped his arms around Hawke's neck and relaxed into the kiss, knowing no one could see them from here. He just wished this damn headache would go away. Fenris had to pull away to clutch his head.

"Fenris?" Hawke asked with some concern.

"Headache," Fenris replied. "I think it's the lyrium. There's so much of it down here."

"I can make you a healing potion, would that help?"

Fenris was pleased that Hawke offered him a potion rather than a healing spell as he might have done for anyone else. "Thank you, Hawke. It's worth a try. I doubt it could make me feel any worse. Let's get these mushrooms back to the others."

Hawke, Fenris, Anders, Sebastian and Varric all congregated around the same campfire, while others sought out friends too. While he and Hawke had been gone collecting mushrooms, two nugs had been roasting over the campfire. Sebastian did carving duty tonight and sliced off pieces of the meat for everyone. Anders got to work on the mushrooms, dicing and adding some herbs and spices, although where he found any down here, Fenris didn't know. Soon their plates were full and soon their bellies. Nug tasted similar to pork, but the meat was a bit tougher and had a slightly muddy taste, as if they'd absorbed the dirt from the earthen tunnels down here. The deep mushrooms were bitter and Fenris grimaced as he ate his. He didn't think he'd be trying them again any time soon. 

The others didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with the mushrooms and ate theirs with gusto. Fenris left the rest of his, but he ate all his roast nug. Anders seemed to be staring at him again, noting his plate wasn't as empty as the rest. And then Fenris had a rather uncharitable thought. What if that hadn't been spices Anders had put on the mushrooms? What if it was some sort of poison? But he'd seen Anders put it on everyone's plate, hadn't he? Or had he? This damn headache was making it hard to concentrate. Fenris shook his head. Anders may have wanted to hurt Fenris, but he would never harm Hawke. All the same, Fenris resolved not to eat anything Anders had prepared again.

* * *

Three days later, there was more darkspawn, another camp. Fenris still wasn't feeling so good. Hawke's potion had worked for a while but his headache was back and nothing seemed to shift it. He was feeling sick to his stomach and his limbs were beginning to ache. Perhaps he was coming down with some sort of cold. Ahead of them, Bartrand held his hand up and talked to one of the scouts who'd just returned.

"Well?" Bartrand demanded, hands on his hips.

"There's been a collapse. The way forward is blocked," the scout replied. 

"What do you mean it's blocked? Is there no way around?"

"There are some side passages which we might be able to cut through, but it's too dangerous. There are too many darkspawn. We should give up and go back home."

Bartrand growled and backhanded the scout across the face so hard that he tumbled to the ground. "What am I paying you blighters for? We're not turning back. Not until I get what I came for! Set camp for the night!"

The scout got up, holding his jaw and glared at Bartrand. "I'm not paid enough for this! You can fight the bloody darkspawn on your own. I'm going home!"

"Fine then! I don't need cowards like you anyhow! That goes for the rest of you too. If you can't hack it, then just go! I don't need you! I can find the damn thing on my own!"

"What's Bartrand searching for?" asked Hawke. "He seems hell bent on something, not just random treasure."

"I don't know, Hawke. Bartrand has never really confided in me about anything. He just told me there would be treasure down here from abandoned thaigs. So far the only thing we've found is darkspawn and old mining equipment. Maybe there won't be anything at all and this whole expedition has been a waste of time and money." Varric rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing towards Bartrand every now and then.

Bodahn came barrelling towards them, his face frantic with worry. "Oh, Messeres! My boy, Sandal, he's run off! I can't find him anywhere! Could you help me look for him?"

"Of course," said Hawke. "When did you last see him?"

"Only a short while ago. I think he ran when Bartrand hit that poor scout. He gets a bit scared with fighting. He doesn't know danger like he should. What if the darkspawn got him?" Bodahn had tears glistening in his eyes and Fenris didn't know whether the upset dwarf would be more of a hindrance or a help.

Hawke seemed to be of the same opinion. "You stay here at camp," said Hawke. "So that if he comes back, you'll be here for him. Otherwise he might wander off again looking for you."

Bodahn nodded. "Thank you, Serah Hawke. You're right. I'll wait here in case he comes back. I need to sort out the provisions for the meals tonight anyway. Oh, Sandal, where are you?" Bodahn kept muttering to himself as he wandered back to the carts holding the food.

Fenris wasn't really hungry. He'd had little appetite for days, but he was as thirsty as if they'd been travelling in the desert for days. He drunk as much liquid as he was able to, but even that made him feel ill most days now.

"Right," said Hawke. "Let's go and find Sandal. He can't have gone too far."

* * *

"I'm just telling you what happened, Sebastian," Varric said, slapping his knee. "There the kid was, surrounded by fifty darkspawn, all dead."

"Varric," Hawke called out in a warning tone. Varric was a born story-teller, marking out actions with his hands, enthusing on his chosen subject, but he was still prone to exaggeration. Hawke smiled to himself at his friend's antics.

"Oh, all right. It was fifteen, but that's still impressive. And there was definitely a frozen ogre." 

Sebastian glanced from Varric to Anders, Fenris and Hawke. Hawke nodded. "I've never seen anything that large frozen before."

"And there was a dragon." Varric waved his mug at Sebastian. "Although that was after we found Sandal. We dealt with the dragon."

"Really, Hawke?" Sebastian's eyes widened comically. "It seems an odd sort of place for a dragon."

"Not really," said Anders. "The archdemons always came from the Deep Roads."

"And that's not all," Varric continued. "You tell him, Blondie. I'm not sure he'd believe me."

"We found some strange lyrium," said Anders. "Red lyrium. Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"I always thought lyrium was blue." Sebastian and the others all raked their gaze over Fenris and his markings, which glowed blue in the dim light of the caverns.

"I've never seen the red stuff before." Varric took a sip of his ale. "And there's nothing about red lyrium in the Memories in Orzammar."

Fenris kept glancing around, as if searching for something. The blue lyrium lining the walls pulsed occasionally and Fenris seemed to be searching for something in relation to it.

"Fenris? Are you all right?" Hawke asked his husband.

"Does no one else hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Sebastian.

"There's a hum or a buzz. I can't get it out of my head."

"They say lyrium sings," explained Varric. "Isana's Song, the dwarves call it. There's an epic poem all about it and how the hero was driven mad by being around so much lyrium all the time. I've read it. Dry as dust, not even worth throwing on the fire. But hopefully we won't be down here much longer, or we'll all start to go mad as that hero."


End file.
